Mariemaia's Macabre Maulings
by Banpaia Daisho
Summary: In response to Harmy's (blacktears) challenege a while ago, I present you this. Watch her die many times over. Copious violence warning.


A.N. – Here you go Harmy.  In (belated) response to your contest, I present you a fic that is so OOC for me, I can't believe I wrote it.  Warnings:  OOC, very slight shonen-ai (if you read into it enough), much violence (duh!), gore, blood, character bashing, and an actual paper-thin plot.  Now, without further ado, I present to you:

Mariemaia's Macabre Maulings 

****

            "Man, this really sucks," Duo griped to the other four pilots.  None responded, but it was clear from their listless expressions that they felt the same.

            It was Christmas Eve, A.C. 197, the one-year anniversary of the end of the Eve Wars.  The Preventers were throwing a staff party in an empty hanger to celebrate.  That is, if your idea of a party is Muzak and an ill-placed strobe light or two.  The gaily-colored confetti didn't brighten spirits; rather, it just added to the cheesy atmosphere.  Those that were dancing did so half-heartedly, and those that didn't partake in swaying to the music weren't having much fun, either.

            Seeing nobody was eager to engage him in conversation, Duo turned to other means of amusing himself.  He sauntered stealthily over to the stage and behind the DJ's table.  Quickly, he slipped a CD out of his pocket and into the sound system.  After pressing a few buttons to ensure his song was the next one played, Duo ventured back to the group.

            Heero had spotted the braided boy leaving and said nothing, but he couldn't keep silent when he returned.  "What were you doing?" Heero asked the coyly grinning American.  "You'll see," he responded, careful to keep himself from chortling.

            Up on stage, the DJ was announcing the next song, oblivious to the switch Duo had made.  Duo motioned for the other pilots to listen as the song began.

_Something has to change,_

_Undeniable dilemma._

_Boredom's not a burden anyone should bear._

_Constant over-stimulation numbs me…_

            By that time the DJ had caught on and shut the song off.  Duo was cackling like mad.  Heero nodded in a satisfied way, while Trowa merely inclined his head towards Duo in a gesture of respect.  Quatre was giggling like a schoolgirl, while Wufei said something about justice being served.

            "I can think of better things to do than childishly mock this party," Heero suddenly spoke up.  Silence descended upon the group.  "It better not be a waste of my time," Wufei said after a moment.  "As if this isn't already," Duo piped up.

            "Exactly," Heero agreed.  "I could be hacking a hole in a top secret mainframe right now, but I have to attend this for "diplomatic" reasons.  The Preventers have an image to maintain, after all.  We're just figureheads for them.  I'm sick of it."

            "The lime light doesn't suit me.  It doesn't really suit any of us, I think," Trowa said.

            "Well then, let's move over to that table in the corner.  Anything to get away from that annoying strobe light," Quatre suggested.

            "I meant figuratively, Little One," Trowa corrected/

            "Oh," Quatre said, flustered.  "Still, I'd prefer the shadows over this."

            En masse, the pilots got up and migrated to the aforementioned table in the recesses of the cavernous hanger.  Once they were all settled, Heero continued his previous line of conversation.  "You know the real reason we're all here?" 

            "To commemorate the end of the war?" Duo queried.

            "As if we had a choice," Wufei snarled.

            "To be polite?" Quatre looked to Trowa for approval.

            "Maintaining an image," Trowa concluded.

            "All very good reasons, but none are correct," Heero said.  "The real reason we're here is right over there."  He flicked his index finger at the other end of the room.  Situated in a similarly dark corner were Lady Une and Mariemaia Khusrenada.

            "Her?  Just because she started all this?" Quatre asked.

            "No onna is that important," Wufei spat out.

            "Just think about it," Heero interjected.  "Without her, there wouldn't have been another war.  Without her, maybe we would've gotten a chance to start a normal life.  Without her," Heero finished.  "The world would've been a much better place."

            Comprehension dawned in the other pilots' eyes.  "So, what can we do about it?" Trowa asked.  "The past is done; it can't be changed."

            "But the future is ours to grasp," Heero stated more energetically than the others thought was possible.  "I propose we plot to kill her."

            "Isn't killing her going a bit too far?" Quatre objected.  "I mean, she's still partially paralyzed.  Isn't that enough?"

            "And haven't we suffered ten time more because of her misguided actions?" Heero countered.

            "You're right," Quatre conceded.  "But how?"

            "Gruesomely," Duo blurted.

            "With no honor," Wufei interjected.

            "In a carefully planned out way," Trowa said.

            "In a way that would be widely noticed," Quatre suggested.

            "Omae o korosu," Heero said.  It was enough.  A raging argument began.  The table vibrated with the fists pounding down upon it.  Heero finally shut everyone up by snapping the table in two with a single blow.  "Everyone will get a chance to have their say.  Let's just do this orderly," Heero stopped, noticing the many stares.  "And covertly.  Volunteers?"

            All four pilots raised their hands.  "Great," Heero muttered.  "Since you all wan to go, we'll have to do this fairly.  I'm thinking of a number between one and fifty.  Guess it."

            "Nine?" Duo questioned.

            "49," Trowa said.

            "Eleven," Quatre said matter-of-factly.

            "6," Wufei sounded confident.

            "Actually, it was 11," Heero said, stunned.  "How'd you guess?"

            "Simple," Quatre replied.  "It's the number of letters in omae o korosu."

            "Omae o korosu!" Heero exclaimed.  Everyone sweatdropped.  "I guess you can go first, Quatre."

            "Gladly," Quatre grinned evilly and began:

Mariemaia's Mauling:  Quatre's Version 

            The setting is a classroom.  A bell rings, and students pour in the door and take their seats.  The teacher motioned for silence; nobody noticed.  He tried again, but to no avail.  Finally, he reached into his podium and pulled out a megaphone.  "Sit down and shut up, you brats!" he screamed.  The class quickly did as they were told.

            "OK class," he began.  "Today we're going to be starting a new book, Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness."  Massive amounts of groaning were heard.  "Pipe down!  You should feel privileged to be reading such a fine book."  Skeptical looks stared back at the teacher, so he tried another approach.  Holding up the book, he said, "Look!  It's small, and only has 142 pages!" Some of the students looked relieved; others just looked bored.  One inquisitive student near the back raised her hand, though.

            "Yes, Mariemaia?" the teacher acknowledged the girl.

            "Mr. Winner, just what _is_ this book about? Is it really about someone with a dark heart?  If that's so, I think I'll like that character."

            "Well, my space heart is telling me that yes, many of the characters in the book do have shady hearts or intentions, but, in all reality, the book is just boring."  Mr. Winner pats his chest to emphasize the point.

            "That's a shame," Mariemaia said in fake disappointment.

            "Also," Mr. Winner continued.  "My space heart is telling me _your_ is dark as well."

            "Well, I never denied that.  Isn't it obvious from the stuck up way I act?"

            "Also," Mr. Winner went on, more forcefully.  "You dark heart is eating up your life.  Not just consuming your life, but draining your life force."

            Mariemaia looked put out.

            "Mend your wicked ways or be sucked into your own heart of darkness!" Mr. Winner finished with a flourish.  Sporadic clapping echoed through the classroom.  Mariemaia sneered at her blonde teacher.

            "I think not, Mr. Winner," she said contemptuously.  "Look where my evilness has gotten me:  I almost took over the world!  And due to the powers of no good, I have risen from my wheelchair to wreak havoc once again!"

            "Class, I'd advise you to take shelter under your desk, and grab on to something that is solidly attached to the building," Mr. Winner cautioned.  He got a couple of askew looks, but everybody complied.  Mariemaia kept on gloating about the wonders of evil.

            Suddenly, the lights started flickering and the sky outside grew dark.  Mariemaia stood in the center of the room now, fists raised defiantly in the air, a dark cloud brewing around her body.  A wicked wind whipped up, picking up anything that wasn't securely fastened to the walls, ceiling, or floor.

            The students screamed en masse and clung for dear life to their desks (thankfully screwed to the linoleum) as everything else in the room flew towards Mariemaia.  A vortex swirled around her, swallowing up all of the projectiles.  The aura grew and grew until the room was left bare (except for the students and Mr. Winner clinging to their desks).  The vortex, having nothing else left to prey upon, settled for Mariemaia. With a yelp from the girl and a slurp from the whirling cloud, the vortex claimed Mariemaia.

            The lights returned to normal, the wind died down, and the sun came back out.  The students let go of their ravished desks and stood up with legs of Jell-o.  Mr. Winner peered out from under his desk.  All eyes were riveted to the center of the room.  A charred black lump lay there.  Getting up, Mr. Winner went over to inspect it.  Upon a more thorough check, it was revealed to be Mariemaia's heart.  In extreme disdain, Quatre stepped on it, reducing it to ash, which then floated out the window.  The class erupted in cheers.

            "Man, this was way better than some old book!" a random student said.

            "Quatre, have you been on the Zero System again?" Trowa asked in a worried voice.

            "No, of course not," Quatre admonished Trowa.  "But I do think this punch has been spiked."

            "Ne, Quatre, that's not punch," Duo chuckled.  "It's a strawberry daiquiri.  Where'd you get it?  I sure could use one."

            Quatre pointed over to a table near the stage.  Sporting an ear-to-ear grin, Duo scampered off to quench his thirst.  "So, who should go next?" Wufei asked.  "Duo was the next closest, so he should," Heero stated.  "Well, he picked a damn fine time to run off!" Wufei said in anger.  "I'd like to go too, you know."  As if on cue, Duo popped up behind Wufei, a goblet of red liquid in his hand.  Downing some of its contents, he began his story:

Mariemaia's Mauling:  Duo's Version 

            The scream of thousands rose in a cacophony to the stars shining brightly above.  Of course, to the mass of people below, the group on stage were the brightest stars by far.  Blisteringly loud music scorched through the air, barely cutting through the yells of the devoted fans.

Mary pretends she's so insane, so insane, so insane 

_She just sits back and laughs at the pain, laughs at the pain._

            In the front row, a little red haired girl had her hands clamped to her ears.  Turning her head, she shouted to her companion, "Duo, tell me again why you insisted on dragging me here."

            "What?" Duo yelled back.  Mariemaia repeated herself as loud as she could.  "Because kids your age are supposed to be having fun, and this is fun central!"  He went back to swinging his head to the rock riffs being played.  His braid was a dancing demon, knocking down all in came in contact with.

            Mariemaia winced and fell for the eighth, and probably not last, time that night.  Rubbing a fresh welt on her cheek, Mariemaia stood up, fully intent on escaping the "fun."  Duo grabbed her though and brought her closer to the stage.  He handed her a plastic cup, which Mariemaia thankfully took and drained in one gulp.  Not five seconds later, it was back in the cup…an on the ground, and her clothes and shoes, and all over Duo.

            "Oh shit!  I guess I shoulda known you couldn't handle that," Duo moaned.  "Go find some water and clean yourself up."

            "What did you give me?" Mariemaia warily asked.

            "Whatever it was they had on tap.  Tastes so bad, I can't tell."

            "Gee, thanks," Mariemaia bit out and fumed away.  She tired to force her way through the crowd, but she couldn't make any headway.  In fact, it seemed as she was getting shoved still closer to the stage.  Unable to stop her movement, Mariemaia found herself wedged next to the stage, right below a giant speaker.

            Mariemaia's hands shot to her ears again, this time to stem the flow of blood now spouting form them.  She wailed in pain as her ears were punished by the music.  Spectators around her, thinking she was dancing, started moshing with her in the middle.

            Now Mariemaia was being trampled as well as deafened.  Weakly, she crawled out from under the group and hauled herself to her feet, using the stage as support.  Unfortunately, she was still by the speaker.  Roaring unintelligibly, Mariemaia fell to her knees, grabbed the sides of her head, and plunged her fingers in her ears.  The bleeding finally stopped.

            The blood, having nowhere else to go, started backing up through Mariemaia's ear canal and into her cranium.  Her vision blurred, and she reached out a hand to steady herself.  She found a length of rope, or was it?  Violet eyes stared back into her quickly reddening ones.  "Duo," she mouthed, and then fell silent.  Duo looked at her, concern etched on his face.  Mariemaia's arms fell to her sides, her body tensed up, and then the pressure form the blood finally burst.  Mariemaia's head shattered spectacularly.

            "Man, puke, blood, booze…what else can I get on my clothes tonight?" Duo complained.  "Remind me to never take you to another Fuel concert, not that I can anymore."  He dropped the limp body to the ground while the crowd cheered, marveling at the special effects in the show.

            "That's disgusting!" Quatre exclaimed.

            "And yours wasn't?" Duo countered.

            "Guys, settle down," Wufei interjected.  "Besides, it's my turn to go."

Mariemaia's Mauling:  Wufei's Version 

            With a resounding swish and clang, a katana sliced through the air and crashed into the green edifice.  The onlookers held their collective breaths.

            "Now pay attention," Professor Chang said.  "In 10 seconds, I will erase all of this information.  Then I will quiz you randomly.  You will be asked questions until you answer one correctly.  Understood?   Good.  Start now."

            You could see the tension mount in the classroom as the seconds flitted away.  Eyes strained to take in the words written on the chalkboard.

            "Time!" Professor Chang yelled.  Massive amounts of groaning were heard as he picked up an eraser and destroyed the precious information.  Putting it down, he unsheathed his katana again and laid it on his desk.

            "The rules are this:  I point to you and you rise.  You may sit when you get a question right.  The penalty for an incorrect answer is a meeting with my blade."  Loud cries arose, only to be silenced as Prof. Chang slowly picked up the katana.

            "You will remain standing, no matter how badly you want to sit.  And I will not, under any circumstances, write anyone a pass to the nurse's office.  You can take a tardy if you wish to seek medical attention.  Any questions?"

            The class stared back as if they were deer in halogen headlights.

            "Then let's begin."

            He raised the blade and tracked it back and forth across the class, daring anyone to be chosen.  A smirk near the back caught his eyes, and he pointed directly at it.  "Rise, Mariemaia."

            The smirk gone, she stood beside her desk.

            "Before we start, remove your notes from your desk.  Using aides is dishonorable," Prof. Chang said.  Grumbling, Mariemaia complied.  "First question.  Who founded McDonald's?"

            "That wasn't on the board!" Mariemaia exclaimed.

            "You must be prepared for anything.  Besides, I like Big Macs.  Now answer."

            Mariemaia knew she was screwed.  "You," she sneered.

            "Ray Kroc," Prof. Chang corrected.  He strode over to her desk and lashed out at her with the katana.  An ear fell to the ground.  The class was shocked.  Mariemaia gasped in pain.

            "Next question." Mariemaia grabbed for the ear and looked at it in wonder.  "Geography.  Which country is larger, Iceland or the U.S.S.R.?"

            "The U.S.S.R.  Do you think I'm stupid?" Mariemaia quipped.

            "Yes, I do.  The U.S.S.R. no longer exists, and I clearly used is, not was, in my question, so Iceland is the correct answer. "  The katana struck again, four blows in quick succession.  "Ms. Khusrenada, please do not flip me off, or else I might have to write you up for insubordination."  Mariemaia looked down at her left hand.  Only the middle finger was left.

            Professor Chang kept up the barrage, and Mariemaia kept getting the questions wrong.  After five minutes or so, she was visibly trembling and suffering from the loss of blood.  The class was rooted to their seats, unable (and unwilling) to help.

            "Next question," Prof. Chang intoned.  Mariemaia tried to protest, but was too weak to.  "Math.  Subtract the number of people in the class form the number of questions you've gotten wrong."  Mariemaia thought hard for a moment.  "Um…5?" 

            "No," Prof. Chang said in a droll voice.  "23 students minus 14 stabs is 9."  He flicked his wrist and Mariemaia's kneecap turned red.  "I'm getting quite tired of your incompetence.  Next question.  Science.  Is the tomato a fruit or vegetable?"

            "Vegetable," Mariemaia barely whispered.  

"It's a fruit, idiot onna."  Wufei sighed contemplatively.  "I've heard this is very trendy nowadays.  You should be honored to receive it."  He readied his katana and thrusted.  The blade went cleanly through her gut.  "There, a belly button piercing."  Prof. Chang withdrew his weapon, and Mariemaia fell over her desk, quite dead.  "Well, who's next?"

"Trendy, yes.  Utterly despicable, as well!" Duo complained.  "How could you?  I've had some mean teachers in my day, but you'd top 'em all, Wu-man!"

            "Oooh, this coming from Mr. I-made-her-head-explode Duo," Wufei responded.  They glared daggers at each other until three words silenced them.

            "It's my turn."

            Heads inclined towards the green eyes gleaming from beneath the unibang.  Trowa gave a brief smile, and then opened his mouth to start the longest story he'd probably ever told in his life:

Mariemaia's Mauling:  Trowa's Version 

            A single spotlight flared to life and was directed to the figure standing in the center of the circus tent.   It revealed a young woman with abnormally puffy hair.  She spoke to the watching crowd.

            "Welcome to the L3 Circus!  Tonight, we have a very special treat for you."  The crowd cheered while Catherine continued.  "With us right now is a very special guest.  Let's bring her out!"

            From behind a flap in the tent emerged Mariemaia Khusrenada and a clown in a half-mask.  They walked up to the center ring to stand by Catherine.

            "Tonight," Catherine continued.  "Our clown is in charge of this girl.  His only task is to entertain you, using her.  Is that what you want?"

                 The crowd roared its approval, and Catherine bowed and exited.  The clown flicked his wrist, and a couple of lions entered the tent, each dragging a load.  One had a giant chalkboard, and the other a table laden with crème pies.  The crowd cheered loudly (can they do anything else?) as the lions dropped their burdens and sat obediently, waiting for commands from their master.  All grew silent, anticipating the masked one's next move.

            He dismissed the lions (the crowd actually seemed a bit disappointed) and picked up a piece of chalk.  He neatly wrote the following on the board:

__ __ __ __ __ __ __    __ __ __ __    __ __ __ __    __ __ __ __ __.

            The crowd looked stumped, and so did Mariemaia.  The clown had to pantomime a man hanging himself for them to figure out that they were going to play hangman.  He motioned for Mariemaia to start the game.

            "R!' she yelled.  The clown shook his head no and picked up a pie.  With lightning speed, he brought it crashing into her face.  The crowd was ecstatic.

            "Hey!  That wasn't nice!' Mariemaia was indignant.  The clown shrugged his shoulders.  "Well then, S!"  The clown picked up the chalk and filled a space in.  

__ __ __ __ **S** __ __    __ __ __ __    __ __ __ __    __ __ __ __ __.

            "Ok.  How about all of the vowels?"  The clown hesitated, but complied.  First, he filled in some blanks, so the puzzle now looked like this:

**__ A __ A S __ I    __ I __ __    __ I __ __    A __ A I __.**

            Then he readied three pies.  The crowd drowned out Mariemaia's cries of protest as she was pied three times in quick succession. 

            Mariemaia wiped the goo off of her face and continued.  "N?" she cautiously asked.  The clown turned to write some more:

**N A N A S __ I    __ I __ __    __ I __ __    A __ A I N.**

            "Ha, I'm getting the hang of this!" Mariemaia exclaimed.  "How about some L's?"  More spaces were filled in:

**N A N A S __ I    __ I L L    __ I L L    A __ A I N.**

"Hmm, not much left," Mariemaia mused.  "How about a D?"  She was pied in the face not half a second later.  Mariemaia used her sleeve to clear the mess away and went on.

            "C?"

            A pie.

            "B?"

            Another pie.

            "Y?"

            Pied yet again.

            "M?"

            By now, Mariemaia was a veritable snowman, covered head to toe in crème from the pies.  She didn't see the next pie coming through all the goop.  The force of the pie hitting knocked her down and bloodied her nose.  She reached up and cleaned off the now pink filling.

            "How dare you!" she spat out.  The clown's expression didn't change.  "Speak, damn you!"  The clown didn't.  "Um…H?  There, are you happy?"

            The clown filled in another space.

**N A N A S H I    __ I L L    __ I L L    A __ A I N.**

            "Yay! No pie!" Mariemaia cheered, though the crowd didn't.  "Ok, a G!' the chalk scrawled across the board once again.

**N A N A S H I    __ I L L    __ I L L    A G A I N.**

"Almost done.  T."

            The clown hit Mariemaia hard again, getting crème deep in her eyes.  She stumbled around for a few moments, hands held out in front of her, crying piteously all the while.  The crowd was roaring with laughter.

            "It's not funny, you bastards!  I'm blind1" she screamed.  The crowd just increased the cacophony.  "Just shut up so I can finish this stupid thing!"  The crowd quieted down.  "Well, I can't see that infernal puzzle anymore, so, umm…W?  I haven't done that yet."

            Unseen by Mariemaia, the puzzle now looked like this:

**N A N A S H I    W I L L    __ I L L    A G A I N.**

            "Am I done yet?" Mariemaia asked.  The clown didn't say a word, but the crowd frantically yelled "NO!".  Mariemaia started running down the alphabet.

            "A?  No.  B?  No.  Not C, D, E, F…wait, F!"

            A pie in the face was all she got.

            "Not G, H, or I.  Maybe J," she said through the crème.

            Another pie shut her up.

            "I don't believe I've done K yet.  Do it," she commanded.  The clown filled in the final letter.

**N A N A S H I    W I L L    K I L L    A G A I N.**

            The crowd collectively gasped.

            "What!?  What does it say?  I finished it, didn't I?"  Mariemaia wiped her whole face clean, but in vain; the crème had indeed blinded her.  Slowly, the clown leaned over and menacingly whispered in Mariemaia's ear:

            "Nanashi will kill again."

            The breath was sucked out of Mariemaia's throat.  She tried to run away, but ran straight into the table of pies.  It collapsed, and the rest of the pies fell down on her.  The clown stalked over to the fallen girl.  With an evil glint in his one visible eye, the clown roughly hauled Mariemaia to her feet.  She was visibly trembling, and the crowd had grown silent.

            "Don't…please..." Mariemaia plead with the masked teen.  With a dramatic gesture, the clown removed his mask and held it high for all to see, only to bring it down with all his might straight at Mariemaia.  It landed on her face, then in it, for he had put so much force into the motion that the mask was actually getting shoved deeply into Mariemaia's head.

            The clown didn't stop.  He dug deeper still until he reached his goal.  Spoon-like, he scooped out the girl's brain and tossed it to the lions.  The clown then rested the mask on the shell that used to be Mariemaia's face.

            The crowd was horrified, and fled the tent in droves.  The clown bowed once in the center ring, and the spotlight died.

            "Geez Trowa, tired yet?  I never thought you could say so much," Wufei marveled.

            "Did you like the symbolism?" Trowa asked in return.

            "Yeah!  Mariemaia wearing the mask symbolized you dying figuratively.  That was great, Tro-man!" Duo congratulated his friend.

            "I think we should call it right here," Quatre decided.  "That story was unbeatable."

            "Damn it, I still get to go!" Heero complained.

            "You think you can top that?" Trowa asked snidely.

            "Just watch me," Heero bit back.

Mariemaia's Mauling:  Heero's Version 

            "Do you recognize where you are?" Heero questioned the red-haired girl next to him.

            "Actually, I don't," Mariemaia said.

            "This is the hospital I escaped from when I first came to Earth," Heero informed her.

            "Well, for your information, I wasn't in the series proper!" Mariemaia exclaimed.  Just then, Duo ran by.  Heero grabbed Mariemaia by the arm and followed.  Duo tossed a grenade and blew out a portion of a wall.  All three jumped out of the opening, Mariemaia quite against her will.

            "Well, you're in 'the series proper' now!" Heero told her as they started free falling.

            The threesome went soaring through the air.  Duo whipped put his thermal copter, and a few seconds later, Heero belatedly opened his parachute.  Mariemaia, though, fell like a rock towards the craggy rocks below.

            "Goddamn you, Yuy!" Mariemaia bellowed right before she landed.  Heero then landed, rolling down the incline and onto the sand.  Duo touched down next and went over to Heero and helped him stand.  Supporting Heero, Duo walked over to the gruesome scene.  Mariemaia lay rigid on the rocks.  A particularly sharp and jagged rock had ripped through her torso, and her head was cracked open like an egg.

            "Well, that wasn't in the script," Duo muttered.

            "Anou, maybe Trowa _and_ Heero should win," Quatre nervously said.

            "Quatre, it was never a competition," Heero said.  "We were just taking turns discussing how we'd kill Mariemaia."

            "Well, are we just going to talk, or actually act?" Wufei queried the group.  In a burst of energy, they all got up.  Just as suddenly, they all stopped what they were doing.

            The hangar was totally deserted, dark, and bare.

            Heero checked his watch.  "Shit!  It's 4:36 in the morning!" he groaned.  The others followed suit.  As a group, heads hung low, they trudged out of the hangar and to bed.  In a shadowy corner, a girl smiled maliciously and vanished with a gleam of light off of her eyes into the shrouding night.

A.N. – There!  It's finally done!  It's also nearly a month late.  Sorry.  Still, I hope you consider this for the contest, and, more importantly, I hope you enjoy this.  Ja ne!   


End file.
